The Coat
by 8belles
Summary: A twist on the end of "Necromancer". I'll leave it at that. Enjoy
1. Chapter 1

**The Coat **

**A/N… I've had this idea kicking round my head for months, but it finally gelled. This is a re-write of the ending scene from "Necromancer" where Abraham (Headless) and Ichabod are about to square off with swords while Andy looks on. I am moving the scene and changing the outcome. I feel like hurting someone because we have to wait **_**so long**_** for Season Two. Nothing personal, Ichabod. Really**.

"What is your unfinished business with me?" Ichabod spoke softly but with power as he cautiously approached the chained Hessian.

The black sightless eyes of Andy looked over his shoulder toward Ichabod; "Now, Ichabod, you shall learn." came the deep disembodied voice of the Horseman from Brooks' mouth.

Looking toward the possessed zombie police officer, as he held a golden, skull-encrusted disk, Ichabod exhaled, "Brooks…. No!" Lunging towards Andy, he ignored the sounds of chains snapping and metal twisting as he knocked Brooks out of his chair, "What have you done!"

"I had no choice!" Brooks screamed lucidly from the floor, handcuffed wrists raised in supplication, "It wasn't my decision!"

Ichabod spun to see a now free Horseman lunging for his throat and flinging him against a wall like a doll. With a thud, Ichabod struck the wall and slid to the floor in a heap. Ichabod lay still as the Horseman turned away and strode to an armory set into the wall of the chamber. Grabbing two swords, he flung one to Ichabod and drew his own blade with an evil hiss. Brooks scrambled out of the way as best he could while handcuffed.

Quickly gathering himself, Crane drew his blade as well as the Horseman rushed in for the first stroke. They sparred back and forth, blades raising a din that echoed off the stone walls. Crane overextended a parry and Horseman grabbed Ichabod's arm. A swift punch was delivered to Ichabod's back and the Horseman nearly flipped him over onto the floor just like his former friend Abraham von Brunt had 250 years previous.

Stunned, Ichabod looked up at the headless man from the floor with wide eyes and breathlessly said, "Abraham!"

Abraham gave him a smart salute with the blade and attacked. Ichabod rolled away instinctually and stood, "Abraham, how could this be? This is impossible!"

The Horseman took advantage of Ichabod's surprise and attacked again but Crane parried and then took a fist to his mouth.

Abraham possessed Brooks again to speak, "You watched Abraham die. That was only the beginning. Then He came to me."

"You made a deal with the Devil!" Ichabod spat back, remembering that horrible day when he lost his best friend in what he considered an honorable service to his new country.

"He's given me what I've always wanted." the voice echoed from Brooks' mouth.

"Revenge!" Crane suggested acidly.

"My prize is not revenge! It is Katrina!" Andy pronounced for voiceless Abraham.

Ichabod's eyes were wide with incredulity, "Katrina? She's held captive for you?" His gaze narrowed and Crane felt rage rising up from his belly to fuel his anger.

"Her soul, to be mine once more." Andy concluded for Abraham.

"No!" Ichabod hissed and lunged for the Horseman.

The blades met with a terrible clash as Andy was released from the Horseman's mental grasp. He looked at the golden skull covered disk in his hands. Beginning the incantation to send the Horseman away, Andy now realized Abraham was going to kill Ichabod for personal reasons. Moloch had been _very particular_ about keeping the Witnesses alive and Andy certainly was not going to cross him even if he had to disobey Abraham.

Crane realized that Abraham was still the better swordsman and so he turned to run, hoping to ambush him in the catacombs. It didn't make much difference now that the hexes and charms were broken where they fought and Ichabod stood a better chance where there was a place to hide.

Breaking loose, Crane ran through the open doorway into the dark halls. Abraham, slightly perplexed by this, paused then walked forward to follow. Andy also scurried behind, the disk pulsing and twisting in his hands like a living thing.

Gunshots reverberated as Abbey, Jenny and Frank defended themselves from demons set free to liberate the Horseman. Over their noise, Mills swore she heard the clang of metal on metal, like swords and set towards the source. "Abbey! What are you doing!" Jenny growled at her keeping her eyes moving for any more demons.

"I hear a sword fight. Crane is in trouble." Abbey replied curtly and held her gun up, flashlight beam illuminating the dark corridor.

The sounds of the sword fight became louder as the women approached and at an intersection, they appeared. Abbey raised her gun but as the men engaged, Ichabod's back was to her and she couldn't get a clear shot.

Blades flashed in the beam of light from Abbey's torch and it was obvious to Mills that the Horseman was winning. Ichabod was deflecting blow after blow but only barely. It seemed the Horseman's rage was more powerful than Ichabod's anger. Ichabod let his guard down for a moment and Abraham swatted him like a fly but it threw Ichabod to the left into the damp brick wall. Abbey heard a dull crack, like a bone breaking and Ichabod cried out as he fell to the floor.

"Crane! Stay down!" Abbey commanded as she took an aim at the Horseman.

"No! This is my battle!" he countered glancing back at his partner, as he got up, blue eyes visibly in pain in his left arm that hung uselessly at his side.

"Crane… "Abbey warned him with pain for him in her voice, eyes focused on the red coat, trying to set up a shot.

"Abbey, leave us be!" Ichabod bellowed and pressed an attack back to Abraham forcing him to stumble a few feet from the intersection. Crane took a quick left and led the headless man after him.

Brooks, who had been in the shadows, stepped into Abbey's light and Jenny saw the charm in Andy's hands, " You! You had it the whole time!"

A profoundly sad look was on the rotting man's face, "I'm sorry. I really truly am. But listen to me! Stay away from the Horseman and Ichabod! I am summoning the demons to take the Horseman away." Terror rimmed Andy's eyes and he then said more quietly, "He has some explaining to do."

"I'm not leaving Crane alone for anybody. Out of my way Brooks." Abbey declared fiercely and Andy did not challenge her but followed. Jenny brought up the rear; hoping Frank was ok alone in the catacombs because they were headed to ground level.

Ichabod's left arm throbbed with pain and his hand felt wet, meaning he was bleeding. He dared not look at the wound because it would be a pointless exercise. The sword in his right hand felt heavy as it had been centuries since he spared anyone, let alone to the death. The great footfalls of Abraham resonated behind him in the tunnels as Ichabod led him up to the exit near the cemetery. If he could draw him out, sunrise would be soon putting an end to all this.

Shoving the heavy grate to the side with his strength ebbing, Ichabod threw his blade upward onto the grass. He found some way to haul himself up and out through the opening with a great cry of pain. Lying on the grass, he panted for a moment as the stabbing knives of agony assaulted his brain. When it subsided, he rolled over and grabbed his blade.

Not long after, Crane heard the steps stop and two hands reach up, pulling the Horseman up through the hole. Abraham had tucked his blade in his belt and carefully removed it before squaring up to Ichabod once more.

Ichabod's breaths came in gasps as he tried to buy himself some time, "Abraham, it doesn't have to be this way."

Abraham relaxed slightly and then his shoulders moved up and down rhythmically as if he was laughing at Ichabod.

"So you mock me before you kill me, is it? No honor in you any more, not even for an old friend." Crane retorted noting it was pointless trying to talk himself some more time.

Abraham saluted him one more time with the blade and came forward at him driving Crane back under heavy blows. Ichabod blocked again and again but the supernatural forces that gave Abraham his immortality were too much.

Brooks climbed out of the hole, chanting to himself to summon the demons to take the Horseman back to Moloch and the skulls began to squawk. Ichabod was almost on his knees as Abraham had a hold of his coat, poised to skewer Crane's heart with his blade.

"Stop! You can't kill him. The Master forbids it!" Andy yelled.

For a fleeting second, Abraham turned towards Brooks and struck at Ichabod driving the sword through him.

"ICHABOD!" Abbey screamed as she had just crawled up through the hole. Demons whipped from every corner like a great wind and seized the Horseman like flies to dead meat. A demon snatched Brooks, who looked remorsefully toward the shocked Abbey. In a flash, they were all gone as the first rays of sun peaked over the horizon.

Abbey found her legs and sprinted to the fallen Ichabod. The sword stuck just a few inches below his heart and a red stain was seeping quickly around it. Falling at his side, she cradled his head gently. "Crane! You should have listened to me!" Tears were welling in her eyes.

Ichabod fought for breath, blood trickling at the corners of his lips into his beard as he forced a smile, "Leftenant, when have I ever listened well to your sage advice?" A spasm shook him as he tried to draw air, feeling the blade of the sword grate painfully against his ribs with each inhalation.

Jenny had her phone out even before Crane had hit the ground, "EMS is on their way." She hung back from the pair not wanting to intrude on their special bond. Frank appeared from the hole in the ground disoriented. Jenny filled him in and he joined her giving Abbey and Ichabod space, just in case EMS didn't arrive in time.

"Were you stubborn like this in 1778?" Abbey asked him, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Katrina said …I was a willful husband." Ichabod sighed, eyes narrowing as the pain etched itself into his expression.

"Fight this, Crane. This is the 21st century. We have great doctors. You hang on." Abbey replied fiercely, still holding his head and brushing his bangs from his eyes with her other hand. In the distance a siren was audible.

"I… have a letter for you, Leftenant." Ichabod rasped, barely a whisper as blood bubbled up at his lips.

Their eyes met and more than words were exchanged. "Oh no. No. I am not Katrina, and you will live, you hear me? Ichabod Crane, I command you _not to die_." Mills replied with every fiber of her being, "I can't do this alone. I need you Ichabod."

A small smile pulled at Ichabod's lips as he grew paler. She felt at his throat for his pulse and was getting weaker. Jenny waved at the ambulance to guide it to them and shortly two blue uniformed EMTs were at Ichabod's side.

"We need to cut off the coat." the woman EMT said matter-of-fact, apparently not surprised there was a sword sticking out of Ichabod's chest.

Ichabod's eyes cut to her and with his remaining strength he said, "Madame, you shall not!"

The EMT looked perplexed at Abbey and then at Ichabod, "No, we need to cut off the coat."

Abbey cursed in her head about his damn coat, sniffed and looked up at the EMT, "He's rather attached to his coat. Can we slip it off him?"

"The sword it sticking through it." The EMT replied curtly knowing that Crane was bleeding out.

Abbey looked at Ichabod sternly, "Your life is worth more than some coat." she scolded him and grabbed the scissors out of the other EMT's hands and cut it herself from the sword hole to the edge between two silver buttons. Easing it off they slipped it from under him and off his compound fractured left arm. Crane screwed his eyes shut in agony and screamed out only once, the as if by divine mercy, he passed out.

The two EMT's went to work stabilizing the blade, administering medications and loading the unconscious Crane onto the gurney. Abbey stepped back so they could finish their work, to the watching Jenny and Frank, holding the old wool coat now that was soaked in Ichabod's blood. Jenney put a tender hand on Abbey's shoulder as they watched the ambulance depart, sirens screaming and lights flashing.

"He'll pull through." Jenny said softly. Abbey inhaled a shaky breath as the realization of what has just transpired sunk in. Looking down at the coat, she felt the urge to cry, but her eyes were dry.

"C'mon. I'll drive you to the hospital." Frank said calmly. After replacing the grate cover, the three turned to go to the SUV.

Crane was in surgery when they arrived but the attending surgeon had just finished the major repairs and his assistants were closing up. "Yes, he is a very lucky man. If that blade was just a fraction of an inch closer to some of his larger arteries in his lung, he would not have lasted as long as he did. So what exactly was he doing with an eighteenth century saber?"

Jenny and Abbey exchanged looks, "I was a reenactment gone horribly wrong." Jenny replied, deadpan.

The doctor nodded, "Well, we will return the sword to you after the surgery is finished. I suspect he'll be out in about an hour."

"Thank you." Frank concluded and the doctor walked away to pick up some more charts.

Abbey didn't realize she was holding her breath until the surgeon walked away and she exhaled loudly. Frank and Jenny looked at her and she forced a smile, but her eyes said differently, "What? I'm ok."

"Abbey Mills, if there is one thing I can smell a mile away, is a lie. And you stink." Frank said using his colloquialisms. Abbey looked to Jenny for some support but her expression reinforced Frank's summation. " I know a great tailor and dry cleaner. Let's get that …thing he calls a coat fixed so he won't get all Shakespeare on us when he wakes up."


	2. Chapter 2

The Coat ch 2

Ichabod sat in the cabin at his table turned desk, a manuscript in front of him. The fire was low in the hearth and the large main room was slightly chilly. He wore his simple linen shirt, laced neatly at the chest, loosely tied and wishing he had his coat as a shiver moved across his body. Around his right shoulder was the band of a sling, where his broken arm rested in a neat fiberglass cast, appropriately navy blue. Abbey had tried to talk him into a neon color, but the horrified look that he gave her rested that idea.

Crane had been out of the hospital for almost a week and Abbey had convenient excuses for where his beloved wool coat was. "I'm having it specially cleaned. You know you bled all over it. And it's not exactly a made of modern fabric. " She replied, noncommittally at the hospital, the day before he was discharged.

"Thank you, Ms. Mills, but I would like to _wear it home_." he returned coolly knowing that he was in no position to make demands. It was not secret Abbey was delighted he was forced to wear 21st century clothes home.

"Well, that is just not possible." she replied sweetly at his dark expression and laid out a pair of jeans. "Don't worry. They are not skinny style. But you do look darn good in skinny jeans."

So here he sat, now more days that he'd like without his coat. The manuscript was not helping him focus as he still was processing the fact that the Headless Horseman had been his best friend and the affianced of his wife. That revelation was even worse than missing his coat and left him feeling hollow and very shaken.

A quick knock was at the door. Jerked from his reverie, he turned quickly, which pulled his stiches in his torso resulting in a grimace and a small grunt of pain. "Just a moment, please." Ichabod stood, adjusting his left arm and went to the door.

Outside stood Abbey with his coat, neatly pressed and in an envelope of clear plastic. She had a cheerful smile on her face as if she had just won the lottery, "Good morning, Sunshine!" Breezing in past the injured Ichabod, she twirled with the coat as if she was dancing with it.

"Ms. Mills, as always a pleasure." Ichabod said trying to hide the happiness he felt at seeing his cherished coat again.

"You thought I threw it away, didn't you. You thought you'd never see this… coat again." She tried hard not to tease but her eyes were sparkling with laughter.

Ichabod looked down his nose at her slightly with narrowed eyes, "Leftenant, I had every confidence and conviction you were being genuine and sincere when you promised to repair my damaged livery."

Abbey poked him verbally, "Sure. Sure you were." Still smiling and enjoying his eagerness to get the coat back she twirled with it again.

"Ms. Mills, may I _please _have my coat." Ichabod's voice was taut like a parent reprimanding a wayward child.

"My Lordship, you may!" Abbey replied sardonically with a bow and flourish.

"Ms. Mills, I, nor my father, have that title, as the King or Queen of England would have to bestow it upon me. I fully doubt they would see fit to do so now, particularly after my stunning defection no matter how long ago it was." Ichabod replied eyeing the bag.

Abbey paused and then grew serious as her eyes lingered on his cast. There were three pins in Crane's arm holding the bones in place. The orthopedist commented how it was amazing he had no nerve damage. "I wanted to tell you something important about your coat." she began.

Ichabod leaned in hoping to get his hands on it faster, "Yes. Please share. "

"Do you remember I was the one to cut your coat off you?" Abbey asked trying to repress the horrific memory as she brought it up.

"Vaguely. I recall that very tall woman in the blue uniform. Her shears were very large." Ichabod replied evenly peering between Abbey and the coat in the plastic bag.

"She was only tall because you were laying down. Anyway… I cut it off you and so I felt obligated to fix it." Mills almost felt like she was apologizing to her mother when she broke a dinner plate when she was young while washing dishes.

Ichabod looked at her surprisingly. He knew how to sew, despite being a man, because on the battlefield, a soldier was left to his own devices to repair torn clothing. He also knew she had seen him repair his clothes despite her best efforts to get him to change into modern attire. "Did you mend my coat yourself?" he asked trying to keep the surprise from his tone.

One of Abbey's eyebrows crept upward, which Ichabod had learned that meant he offended her in some way, "Are you shocked?"

He raised his right hand in supplication, "No offense was intended, Ms. Mills. It was my impression that women of this time had relegated the task of clothes making and mending to the few because they are pursing other … opportunities this century offers."

Abbey gave him an appraising look and responded, "Well, that is correct. However, you can learn a whole lot about sewing by watching YouTube. So I patched it up."

"You Tube?" he queried as Abbey unwrapped the coat from the dry cleaners.

"Never mind." she said under her breath and held it up for him to inspect.

The silver buttons gleamed and the wool almost looked blue again, but it still retained the patina of an antique. Ichabod sighed as he touched it as Abbey held the hanger. His fingers found the repair Abbey had made. The stiches were a little loose and sloppy but if he was not searching the coat so closely, he would probably miss them. "Leftenant, I am humbled by your care of my treasured coat."

Abbey felt herself puffing up some from his praise, "Let me help you put it on."

Stepping behind him, she slipped it over his shoulders and around his cast. "I had to call Williamsburg Virginia to ask them how to clean it." She commented, "And they were so curious that they made me an offer for it."

"Williamsburg? Do you mean there is a vestige of my era still in existence here in this time?" his tone brightened as the familiar fabric enrobed him again like a security blanket.

"Well, not exactly. They are all reenactors but they have the knowledge about these things." Abbey responded, pleased to hear the cheerfulness in Ichabod's tone.

"How much did they offer, I am inquisitive." Ichabod said turning to face Abbey, his left arm sleeve empty but as handsome as she had ever seen him.

"More than it's worth…. To you that is." Abbey responded with a grin, hands on her hips, admiring her sewing, which was close to invisible.

"Yes, this coat and I are quite inseparable it seems." Ichabod stroked the lapel lovingly.

"Don't think I've given up on updating your look." Abbey smirked.

" Miss Mills, I would never underestimate your passion for anything you are firmly committed to." He gave Abbey a small smile and a nod.

Abbey's heart was warmed by the compliment and she patted him on the right arm gently giving it a small squeeze of friendship, "And same to you, partner. Same to you."


End file.
